Inebriate

You stood outside the bar 
And tried to be polite
Against a barrage of knuckles
But felt skull and skin collide
Ask the bouncers, whose arms

Feasted upon your drunken stupor
Hours' worth of anger
In town, trying to convince the banker
To lower the interest rate 
Over debts they could hardly pay

You should have maintained 
Your new year's resolution to be dry
At least you tried

Somebody called 911
To report a passed out guy
On the pavement, 
Possibly gazing at constellations 
Inside his head

The price you pay for a temporary high
On a Saturday night
Spinning mass of curly hair 
Suspended in a zone of putrid air
You staggered away slightly dazed
But passing by in a Chevrolet
A child witnessed the violence

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